


stand and fight

by alineppenhallow



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Bamf!Magnus, Battlefield, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Protective!Jace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alineppenhallow/pseuds/alineppenhallow
Summary: Magnus is exhausted.The type of exhaustion that comes long after an adrenaline fueled second wind and every step is a fight with himself never mind the opponents facing him. He’s got no choice but to keep moving though, even when everything in him is begging for a reprieve. The battle is still raging around him.





	stand and fight

Magnus is exhausted. 

 

The type of exhaustion that comes long after an adrenaline fueled second wind and every step is a fight with himself never mind the opponents facing him. He’s got no choice but to keep moving though, even when everything in him is begging for a reprieve. The battle is still raging around him. Valentine’s new army falling on them like waves on a cliff, endless like the ocean itself and so devoted to their cause they care nothing for themselves. The worst kind of enemy... they have nothing to lose. 

 

Whereas Magnus has  _ everything _ to lose and barely any energy left to protect it. 

 

His magic has gone from scalpel like precision, slicing through the circle members like a skilled artist with a paintbrush adding the last flick of paint to a masterpiece to a violent bloody mess not unlike a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. It’s hardly refined but Magnus is so tired he can barely focus. Not that it’s helping his energy levels, this brutish uncoordinated mass of power is a waste.

 

And one he can scarcely afford. 

 

What’s worse is he lost sight of Alexander an hour ago. 

 

The clawing anxious feeling in his gut has pretty much been permanent since, eating away at his resolve and strength as he grits his teeth against the endless onslaught. He wants to go running off and find him, spare some magic to track Alec. But there’s no end to the fight and it’s taking everything Magnus has just to stay upright. 

 

He’s getting sloppy. Slow even. 

 

A second too late here and he has a broken rib, too much energy used on a group of circle members and his knee buckles bringing him down to the ground. His vision wavers dangerously, fading between darkness and a blurred look of the battle field. 

 

Despite barely being able to think more than a second ahead, most of his thoughts are wound around Alec’s safety. 

 

A circle member comes up behind him and Magnus tosses him haphazardly into a wall so hard he flinches at the sound of bones being crushed against the bricks. He wonders if Alec is injured. 

 

A wolf is pinned and Magnus throws his magic behind a loose rebar throwing it through the skull of the shadowhunter on top of them. The wolf spares him a nod in thanks before rejoining the fray and Magnus wonders if Alec is just as tired as he is. Is his bow dripping? Has he missed too many shots?

 

Or is he one of the fallen? Packed into the dirt and gravel like so many others, kicked to one side out of haste and desperation rather than disrespect. 

 

There’ll be time to bury the dead later. 

 

Now is the time for the living, for surviving. And god Magnus hopes Alec’s still out there, still fighting, still breathing. The idea that Alec isn’t -- that he isn’t... _ gods _ it makes his whole world tilt on its axis enough that he stumbles.

 

He pushes the idea forcibly away as he struggles back upright. 

 

There’s another wave of circle members screaming into the warehouse and Magnus allows himself one moment of despair. His eyes shut and he feels the weight of it all fall on him like a heavy suffocating blanket. It’s so thick he can barely breathe and for a split second, he doesn’t. 

 

He stops breathing. 

 

Just for a second the world stops and Magnus considers just stopping with it. 

 

Instead he takes another breath, opens his eyes and pulls himself up as much as he can. He throws himself back into the fight, closely followed by his fellow exhausted downworlders and the few clave shadowhunters left. 

 

As he collides with the next wave he thinks to himself  _ once more unto the breach  _ and then all his thoughts boil down to the fight _. _

  
  


Magnus has lost track of the amount of fractions they’ve cut through. It doesn’t matter though, they still keep coming and Magnus is done. 

 

The circle member kicks his legs out from under him and Magnus blacks out for a second as his back hits the solid ground. He blinks slowly, trying to clear his vision of the bright sparks lighting up the dust like solar flares of blinding light. He hadn’t even noticed the idiot approaching from behind. Now this smug circle member smirks down at him, saying... _ something  _ but Magnus can’t focus on the words. No doubt it’s something about death to all downworlders or something equally cliched and villainous. It’s enough to make him roll his eyes, each of Valentine's groupies seems to have a limited vocabulary, like a toy doll with a pull string they have the same group of tired old phrases. 

 

Magnus is done with it all. 

 

The burly circle member lifts his seraph blade high and Magnus tries to lift a hand, pull some magic from the dry well within him. Nothing happens. 

 

The blade falls and Magnus shuts his eyes. 

 

He thinks he’s done enough, he’s given enough. 

 

He did his best and his only regret is  _ Alexander _ . All the seconds they wasted, he should have said  _ I love you _ more. Should have kissed Alec’s chapped lips more, should have wrapped his arms around him more, should have spent more time sucking bruises against that tempting defence rune. Should have, would have...etc. 

 

All of it fades away as the blade descends and Magnus could almost chuckle at the thought of Ragnor giving him a lecture about showing up in the afterlife this early. He’s looking forward to seeing his old friend again...

 

A war cry echoes over the noise of battle, it’s so violently loud and angry that most everyone stops, stunned into stillness and Magnus actually opens his eyes to see who in the hell let loose that bellow and why. 

 

His answer is Jace Herondale.

 

And judging by the fact he’s sprinting across the warehouse floor towards Magnus and his assailant, Magnus thinks it’s safe to presume the little blonde parabatai of his boyfriend took offence to Magnus’ demise. 

 

Which is oddly touching. 

 

The circle member is so stunned and so green when it comes to battle that he doesn’t even manage to raise his blade to defend himself before Jace is on him, swinging his own blade in a curved arc. The glowing blue runes leave a brief neon impression in the air before they slice through the neck of the circle goon as though he wasn’t even there. 

 

Without a head the circle member collapses like a puppet without strings, falling useless at Jace’s feet. The surrounding downworlders and allies take advantage of their stunned inexperienced foe and fall on them, dispatching them with ease and giving them all a well deserved grace period.   

 

“My hero, I’d swoon but I’m already on the floor,” Magnus croaks and Jace’s gaze darts to Magnus. 

 

“You hurt?” Jace asks, crouching down but keeping his gaze on their surroundings. 

 

“I believe the better question would be; what doesn’t hurt,” Magnus groans.

 

Jace snorts, amused despite the serious situation, “Okay, let me try that again, are you seriously injured?”

 

“No, just exhausted,” Magnus answers, he tries to get his muscles to cooperate but they refuse like petulant children to budge and so Magnus sighs, resigned to the fact that he’s stuck on the floor for a while.

 

“You and me both,” Jace says, falling to a knee. His shoulders sink and he looks as bad as Magnus feels. Dirt, dust and dark patches of blood cover his face and hair. 

 

“Thank you,” Magnus says and Jace looks down at him, losing the tired air for a brief moment when he smiles.

 

“No problem.”

 

Magnus offers him a tired close lipped smile before he pushes himself up into a seated position. It takes more effort than he’s willing to admit. “How are we doing?”

 

“We’re finally making some ground,” Jace says sounding as relieved as Magnus now feels. 

 

“Finally,” Magnus breathes, his head thrown back with the joy of there finally been an end to all this fighting. 

 

“I saw Alec,” Jace says after a few minutes of basking in the finality of the battle.

 

Magnus’ heart stops. His throat feels suddenly dry. He almost doesn’t want to know, too worried about the answer but a part of him needs to know, regardless if it’s good or bad. He just needs to know, “Is he --”

 

“He’s fine, dislocated his shoulder so he’s on close combat but he can hold his own,” Jace quickly assures him and Magnus deflates with relief, falling back on the ground, one hand over his eyes. He starts to shake, a chuckle and a sob bubbling up from within. Jace’s hand clamps around his shoulder squeezing gently as he waits for Magnus to get control of himself. It takes a few minutes before Magnus feels in control of his emotions once more, a little shocked by how powerful Jace’s assurance affected him. He chalks it up to exhaustion and pushes himself back up again. 

 

“I’m surprised you’re not with him,” Magnus says finally and Jace stares at him with an incredulous expression. 

 

“Seriously?”

 

“What?”

 

“You seriously - of course not,” Jace snorts in amusement, shaking his head with a small smile, “God you two really are made for each other.”

 

“Care to let me in on the joke there blondie?” Magnus narrows his eyes sharply at Jace.

 

“I came to watch your back because Alec was starting to slip up,” Jace says and Magnus’ stomach drops with another wave of worry. 

 

“What?”

 

“He was worried about you so I told him I’d find you and keep you safe,” Jace says softly. 

 

“I’m touched,” Magnus says weakly, swallowing thickly around the lump forming in the back of his throat. 

 

“You should be, I’m a highly skilled warrior. My time is precious,” Jace says, punching Magnus’ shoulder gently to try and lighten the mood. 

 

“I take it back,” Magnus rolls his eyes, his lips twitching against a smile. 

 

“Can’t now, no takes-backies,” Jace grins widely as the sounds of battle start to grow closer and they realise there’s another wave about to fall on them. 

 

“What are you five?” Magnus asks as he lets Jace pull him to his feet with a long drawn out grown. 

 

“I’m young and nimble unlike you old man, want me to find you a walker?” Jace teases.

 

“You are an insufferable ass I have no idea what Simon sees in you,” Magnus says, startling a laugh from Jace just as the next group of would be goons rush into the warehouse.

 

“Says the guys who was swooning over my dashing rescue not five minutes ago. Try not to fall in love with me, it’d make things awkward with Alec,” Jace winks cockily as he twists away and towards a nearby fight. 

 

Magnus watches him go, shaking his head fondly. 

 

It eases something in his chest, to see Jace dancing around the battlefield. Not just because Jace is Alec’s parabatai and a good indicator of his boyfriend’s health but because it’s been too long since Jace smiled freely. Beaten down and broken by Valentine it had taken a very long time to coax Jace back to some semblance of his usual self. Seeing him now, exhausted but confident with each stroke of his blade, warms something behind his breastbone. 

 

Magnus pulls the last dredges of his energy together and jumps back into the fray, keeping Jace in his sights. The battle seems a little easier with Jace nearby, the fight shared between them.

 

Magnus feels a third wind coming on. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://alineppenhallow.tumblr.com) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alineppenhallow)  
> 


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